The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [330]
Mrs Wąsowska imperceptibly bit her lip. ‘You’ll both be very happy, or at least … you will,’ she said, controlling a sigh. ‘Although …’
‘Do you see an “although?”’ Izabela asked, with unfeigned surprise.
‘Let me tell you something,’ Mrs Wąsowska went on, in a tone of calmness unusual for her, ‘the Duchess is very fond of Wokulski, it seems to me she knows him very well, though I don’t know how, and she has often talked of him to me. Do you know what she once said?’
‘You intrigue me,’ replied Izabela, increasingly surprised.
‘She said, “I’m afraid Bela doesn’t understand Wokulski at all. I think she’s playing with him, but he is not a man to be played with. Also, it seems to me that she will appreciate him — but too late.”’
‘The Duchess said that?’ asked Izabela coolly.
‘Yes! Anyway, I’ll tell you it all. She ended her remarks with a phrase that moved me strangely: “Mark my words, Kazia, that it will be so, for people who are dying can see clearly.”’
‘Is she so ill?’
‘She is certainly very poorly,’ Mrs Wąsowska ended drily, feeling that the conversation was beginning to terminate.
A moment of silence followed, fortunately interrupted by Ochocki’s reappearance. Once again Mrs Wąsowska very cordially said goodbye to Izabela, and, with a fiery glance at her companion, said: ‘Now let’s go home for lunch.’
Ochocki made a great face, meant to indicate he would do no such thing. But, after scowling some more, he took his hat and they left. When they were in the carriage, he turned aside from Mrs Wąsowska to gaze into the street, and began: ‘If only Bela would finish one way or the other with Wokulski …’
‘You, of course, would prefer it to finish this way, rather than the other, so as to become one of the family friends. But there’s nothing doing,’ said Mrs Wąsowska.
‘If you please, madam,’ he replied indignantly, ‘that isn’t my game … I leave it to Starski and his like …’
‘Why does it concern you, then, that Bela should finish?’
‘A great deal. I’d give my right arm that Wokulski knows some important scientific secret, but I’m certain he won’t come out with it while he’s in this state of fever. Ah, these women, with their sickening coquetry.’
‘Is yours any better?’ asked Mrs Wąsowska.
‘We are allowed …’
‘You are? Proud fellow!’ she was indignant, ‘so speaks a progressive man in the age of emancipation!’
‘May the devil take emancipation!’ Ochocki replied. ‘Emancipation, indeed! You women would like to have all the privileges of men, but no obligations. Open the door for them, vacate the places man has paid for, fall in love with ’em, and they …’
‘That’s because we are your happiness,’ Mrs Wąsowska replied mockingly.
‘What sort of happiness is it? There are a hundred and five women to every hundred men, so why should we worry?’
‘No doubt your admirers, the cloakroom girls, won’t.’
‘Of course not! The most insufferable women are the great ladies, and waitresses in restaurants. The demands they make, and how they turn up their noses!’
‘You forget yourself,’ said Mrs Wąsowska, haughtily.
‘Let me kiss your hand, then,’ he replied, instantly carrying out his intention.
‘Not that hand, if you please.’
‘This one, then …’
‘There now, didn’t I say you’d kiss both my hands before the day was out?’
‘Upon my soul! … I don’t intend to lunch with you … I’ll get out.’
‘Stop the carriage!’
‘Why?’
‘Well, if you want to get out?’
‘Not just here … Oh, how unfortunate I am with such a wretched disposition as mine!’
Wokulski came to the Łęckis’ every few days, and usually only found Mr Tomasz, who greeted him with paternal affection, and then would talk for several hours about his ailments or business interests, gently giving him to understand he considered him a member of the family already.
As a rule, Izabela wasn’t home: she was at her aunt’s, or with the Countess or friends, or out shopping. But if Wokulski was lucky, they spoke briefly together about unimportant matters, since Izabela was always on the point of going somewhere, or expecting visitors.
A few days after Mrs Wąsowska’s visit, Wokulski